


A Study in Sherlock

by beanabaybee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanabaybee/pseuds/beanabaybee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is puzzled by a compliment he receives and asks John for help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Note: This story has nothing to do with, nor is it associated with Ariane_DeVere's work of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Sherlock

John Watson sat in the living room of 221b Baker Street, surfing the internet on his laptop, unwinding after a long day. Sherlock had been pacing the apartment, going back and forth between his bedroom and the living room, seemingly losing an article of clothing each time he made it back to the living room, and each time seeming more flustered than before.  John was intrigued, but trying not to stare, especially after Sherlock had removed his trousers and was down to just his pants. After that, he seemed to have stopped pacing. John figured he had taken one of his weird flash naps.

Just then, John’s phone beeped. It was a text. From Sherlock.

Come to my bedroom. -SH

Sighing, he got up off the couch and walked back to Sherlock’s bedroom. “I’m one room away. You could have yelled, or come out of the room, or-“ John stopped short when he realized Sherlock was standing in front of him, completely naked. John cleared his throat loudly, suddenly feeling warm. “Why, uh, why are you naked?” Sherlock continued to stand there, looking in the mirror, hands on his hips. “Am I physically attractive?” John took a moment to compose himself, knowing Sherlock would see everything cross his face. Sherlock did watch John’s face, and it was pretty clear he’d been caught off guard, which would explain the blushing and stammering.

After an awkward pause in which John tried not to stare at Sherlock’s beautifully naked body, he finally spoke: “Why, um, why do you ask?” Sherlock turned back to the full length mirror on the door to the bathroom. “A woman I’ve never met told me I was attractive today. I can only assume she was joking.” John smiled, “I doubt it. I’m guessing she meant it.”

 “But I thought people found my mind sexy. This woman hadn’t even had a conversation with me.” John took one step closer, standing behind Sherlock’s right shoulder and meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Why are you asking _me_ about this?” Sherlock studied John in the mirror. He was looking down and blushing. “Because,” Sherlock took a deep breath and John could swear he actually looked distraught, “I have all this brain power and I can’t understand this. You don’t understand how frustrating that is. Plus I know you’ll be honest with me.” John sighed and stepped a little closer to Sherlock, taking a quick look at his full body in the mirror. “OK, um, what exactly do you want to know about?”  Sherlock looked annoyed. “If I knew that, do you think I’d have to ask you?”

John took another deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Ok, well, there’s, um, your hair, for example.” Sherlock wrinkled his nose at the mirror, “My hair? Really?” Sherlock looked at John, trying to deduce if John was lying. John was looking him the eye, but he was still blushing, so it was hard to tell. “Yeah, you just want to,” he hesitated, “run your fingers through it.” John reached up and touched Sherlock’s hair to make a point, tentatively at first, but when he felt how soft it was, he suddenly couldn’t help himself, he just _had_ to really get his fingers in it. And he could swear that Sherlock leaned into his hand, giving John contact with the warm skin of his scalp. “OK…” Sherlock said, his voice a bit breathier than normal, “what else?” John realized with a start that he had closed his eyes. He opened them quickly and studied Sherlock’s face in the mirror. No change in expression, but it was clear he was studying John closely. The scrutiny made John’s skin tingle with both pleasure  and apprehension as he removed his hand from Sherlock’s hair and moved in a little closer to touch his face, just below his eye.

John reached forward and traced a single finger across Sherlock’s right eyebrow and under his lower lid. “Your eyes,” he said punctuating his words with gentle traces of his finger, “but not just their physical beauty, although that is definitely a part of it. You also have this way of looking at someone. As if you can see into their soul. It’s very intimate and can be erotic.” John felt a little more relaxed and this time didn’t wait to be prompted for more information. He traced across Sherlock’s cheekbone without comment, and then moved down to his lips, slowly tracing first the outline of his cupid’s bow and then running his finger across the lower lip. Sherlock’s mouth parted slightly, and John could feel the gentle warmth of his exhale across his hand. John took this opportunity to glance down in the mirror, and noticed that Sherlock was getting hard.

Sherlock had been watching John this whole time. He had tensed up considerably and his breathing pattern had changed. That, along with the considerable strain he seemed to be putting on his trousers, led Sherlock to deduce that John was enjoying this study. Sherlock no longer cared what made other people find him attractive. He only cared what John thought, and intended to keep up this game long enough to find out.

By this time, John had gently moved his fingers down to Sherlock’s throat. Sherlock swallowed and John felt his Adam’s apple bob up and down gently. “Is there something fascinating about my neck, John?” John met Sherlock’s eyes in the mirror again. “Nothing in particular,” he said, almost teasingly. He ran his fingers up and down Sherlock’s throat, gently caressing it. John’s eyes moved to Sherlock’s collarbone. It took every ounce of strength he had not to come around Sherlock and gently bite it.

John’s hand dipped lower to Sherlock’s chest. He could feel the muscles directly under the skin and let his hand linger right near Sherlock’s heart just for a moment. He could feel Sherlock’s heart beating against his hand. Fast. He was more excited than he was letting on. Sherlock watched John in the mirror, standing behind him, running a hand down his body. It was a more intense sensation than anything Sherlock had ever experienced. He had been touched, but he had never been given a slow scrutinizing of every inch of his body. He looked up and realized John was watching him, and from the looks of things, enjoying the show.

“John,” Sherlock said, trying to keep his voice steady, “What is it that’s so interesting about my torso?” John smiled. “You’re lean and muscular. Even your clothing,” he laughed a little, “when you’re wearing clothes, hints at that. It’s like a tease.” John ran his hand back up Sherlock’s chest to his right shoulder, then down his arm, stopping at his bicep to punctuate the point. Sherlock couldn’t help himself and flexed just a little under John’s hand. “Which brings me to your hands,” John said, running his hand down Sherlock’s arm and holding his right hand up, palm facing forward, for Sherlock to see in the mirror, “They seem delicate, but powerful.  You can play the violin and do intricate experiments, but I’m pretty sure you could kill a man with these.”

Dropping Sherlock’s hand, John moved his attention to Sherlock’s stomach. He ran his hand over the slight rippling of muscle, and felt Sherlock’s stomach twitch a bit under his hands. Meanwhile, Sherlock’s control was starting to slip, “John,” he practically growled as John’s hand dipped lower to where the waist of his pants would be. Meeting Sherlock’s eyes in the mirror again, John smiled mischievously. Finally, the great Sherlock Holmes was cracking. So John decided to play dumb. “What? Would you like me to stop?” John’s hand teased right across Sherlock’s lower stomach, threatening to dip lower. “John,” Sherlock growled again, half warning, half pleading. He was surprised by how much he wanted John’s hand to move just a few inches lower. This had started as research, and now he was practically begging for relief.

John saw the want in Sherlock’s eyes and realized this was no longer a game. He either had to stop now, or do what they both obviously wanted. For a second, John almost stopped and walked away. But hearing Sherlock’s heavy breathing and seeing the want in his eyes made him want to keep going. Without breaking Sherlock’s gaze, John finally moved his hand lower, wrapping it gently around the base of Sherlock’s shaft. Sherlock sharply drew in a breath, and leaned back into John’s touch. His shoulder was now right next to John’s mouth, so John reached out and pressed a gentle kiss to that spot. He let his free hand wander up to Sherlock’s hair, tangling his fingers in it. As he did that, Sherlock spun, capturing John’s lips with his. John thrust his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth, letting his hand find Sherlock’s dick again, this time tightening his grip and stroking him. Sherlock tugged urgently on the bottom of John’s jumper. John broke the kiss just long enough to pull both the jumper and undershirt off in one swift movement, and then returned to hungrily kissing Sherlock. Sherlock fumbled with John’s trouser button and it felt like forever before he was able to get it open. He pulled the zipper down and hooked his hands under the waistband of both the trousers and the pants. John groaned as the fabric of his shorts brushed against his hard cock on their way down. Sherlock’s hand snaked around and rested on John’s ass, lightly cupping it. Grabbing a handful of Sherlock’s hair, John continued to stroke him, moving faster. “Mmm, slow down,” Sherlock purred against John’s lips, reaching down to remove his hand, “I want to enjoy this.” Sherlock backed toward the bed, leading John with him. When they reached the bed, John gave Sherlock a gentle push so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He gave Sherlock one more deep kiss, and then kneeled in front of him on the rug. Placing his hands on Sherlock’s thighs, John leaned forward, putting just the tip of Sherlock’s dick into his mouth. Sherlock let out a low moan, burying one hand in John’s hair. John took Sherlock deeper into his mouth, eliciting a louder moan. John continued to lick and suck, slowly running his tongue up and down Sherlock’s shaft, enjoying the reaction he was getting. “Oh, God, John,” Sherlock moaned, “If you don’t stop, I’m going to come.” John stopped and looked up, smiling mischievously, “That’s kind of the point.” Sherlock groaned in frustration, “well, yes, but I’d rather it happen while I’m fucking you.” The words came as such a shock to John, that all he could do was sit there for a moment with his mouth hanging open.

After a moment, John found his ability to speak. “I see,” he managed to squeak out, a blush creeping up his face, “Well, ok then.”  Sherlock stood, motioning for John to do the same. John did so eagerly, once again capturing Sherlock’s lips with his. Sherlock spun them around and pushed John down on the bed, kneeling between his legs. Sherlock was now on top of John, and John continued to kiss him, running a hand through his dark mass of curls. Sherlock broke the kiss and leaned over, digging in the drawer of the nightstand. He pulled out a bottle of lube and squirted some onto his hands, rubbing them together to warm it. John kept his eyes on Sherlock’s hands as he grabbed a pillow from behind his head and tucked it under his hips, raising them up to the correct angle.

Sherlock slid a single slick finger inside John, making sure to take his time. John drew in a sharp breath at the sensation, feeling only a little surprised that Sherlock knew what he was doing. After a series of slow, rhythmic thrusts, Sherlock added a second well-lubed finger, hooking his fingers slightly to brush against John’s prostate. John moaned in approval, bucking his hips to encourage Sherlock. Once he was satisfied that John’s muscles were relaxed, Sherlock pulled away, reaching for the lube a second time. Before he could do anything, John took the tube, squirted some of the cool liquid onto his hands, and started spreading it on Sherlock’s cock, slowly stroking him. Sherlock closed his eyes and took a moment to enjoy the sensation of John’s hands wrapped around him. After a moment, Sherlock opened his eyes and took John’s hands in his. Lowering John’s hands to his sides, he pinned them to the bed, propping himself up. Sherlock inched forward, pressing the head of his penis against John’s opening. He leaned forward, intending to take his time, but at that moment, John bucked his hips, causing Sherlock to fully sheath himself inside John in one swift movement.

John and Sherlock moaned in unison, Sherlock throwing his head back. “God, Sherlock,” John breathed, bucking his hips to match Sherlock’s rhythm, “that feels so fucking good.” John wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking in rhythm with Sherlock’s thrusts. The sight of being buried inside John coupled with the image of John playing with himself was almost too much for Sherlock to handle. “John,” Sherlock’s voice was even huskier than usual, “God, John, I can’t last much longer.” “Mmm,” John purred, still matching Sherlock’s rhythm with his hand, “that’s ok. I want you to come for me Sherlock. I want to watch you come in me.” John’s words, along with the hot tightness of his ass and the image of John touching himself sent Sherlock right over the edge. He moaned loudly, continuing to thrust into John. John kept his eyes on Sherlock, watching the orgasm cross his face. His eyes were pressed shut and his lips were parted, a moan escaping his lips. That image was just enough for John. Sherlock thrust again and John’s orgasm hit him, spilling both onto Sherlock and over John’s hand. 

For a moment, neither man moved. They stayed still, Sherlock still inside John, neither saying a word. After a moment, Sherlock moved, collapsing on the bed beside John. John watched Sherlock bring himself back, taking cool, even breaths. Sherlock opened his eyes and was met by John’s gaze. John smiled. “So, does that answer your question?”


End file.
